


i know all about you

by haloud



Category: Arslan Senki | Heroic Legend of Arslan
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Making Out, communication is key
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 01:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11325495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: There are few opportunities during a war to snatch moments of peace.  Even in the long lulls between Lusitanian attacks and Arslan’s own military efforts, there are always dignitaries to entertain, drills to run, and plans to devise.  Yet, somehow, in between responsibilities, one always finds space to breathe.





	i know all about you

**Author's Note:**

> title is from all about you by birdy

The misty, silvery morning is more peaceful than either of them deserves.  In another life, Narsus would paint it—softly stipple the low grass, blur the horizon close—and the only detail highlighted in sharp relief would be Daryun, a dark shape in a cape of crimson, awaiting him on a low embankment.  In this life, he merely tucks himself into his heavy cloak to keep out the chill and picks up his pace.

Despite the many days of planning that led up to this meeting, it manages to be awkward when Narsus is finally standing in close speaking distance.  All the words that he’d stored up, sorted through, carefully portioned out evaporate into the fog.  The light is dim, but Narsus grapples with the painful awareness that it’s not so dim as to obscure the way he gapes, fish-like and tongue-tied.  Utterly undignified.

Graciously, however, Daryun just smooths the grass beside him in an invitation to sit.  “Don’t worry; I haven’t been waiting long.”  He doesn’t speak again until Narsus has situated himself on the ground.  “I had hoped we could watch the sun rise, but that doesn’t seem to be an option this morning.”

“How romantic,” Narsus says, trusting his laughter to mask the very real swoop of giddiness those words set into motion.

“We hardly have the time or space to discover less cliched avenues,” Daryun points out.  His shoulders hunch slightly; he’s actually _embarrassed_ , and Narsus simply cannot let that stand.

“I was just thinking as I approached that the morning has its own sort of beauty to it.”

Narsus props himself up on his elbow, reaching across Daryun with his other hand to twirl a lock of his hair.  Daryun tenses, then relaxes with a look of almost hilarious concentration on his face.  Heart full at the ease of this now, Narsus settles back into his skin.

“Speaking of beauty…I could almost hate you, you know,” he says teasingly, luxuriating in the softness of black silk beneath his fingers, digging in deeper to scratch lightly against his scalp. 

“Hmm?” Daryun hums, opening his eyes halfway to look at Narsus through heavy lids.

“I wager you don’t bother in the slightest to keep up your appearance.  And yet _look_ at you.”

Daryun shoves his hand away gently.  He isn’t blushing—Daryun rarely does—but that doesn’t mean that Narsus can’t tell that he’s embarrassed.  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Daryun says roughly, turning his head away so he doesn’t have to look Narsus in the eye.

“The truth can rarely be dismissed that easily,” Narsus teases, reaching over once more to stroke his forefinger down the hooked bridge of Daryun’s nose.  “You are _exceedingly_ handsome, dearest, and nothing you can say will make it untrue.”

Daryun cuts his eyes at Narsus, raising one brow.  “High praise, I suppose, coming from a connoisseur of beauty such as yourself.”

“Indeed, and you should take it as nothing else.  My word on the subject is absolute.”  Narsus rubs his thumb across Daryun’s lower lip, grinning at the softness of it.  He leans in for a kiss, and Daryun accepts easily, drawing himself up to gain better leverage.  Daryun’s broad hand comes up to cradle the back of Narsus’s head, and Narsus arches his back like a cat in full stretch as he slides his arms over Daryun’s shoulders to wrap around his neck.  Once the kiss starts, it spirals rapidly out of control—from a hand on Narsus’s hip to Narsus drawn to straddle his hips to the unstoppable force of their tongues curling together.  After so long apart, nothing could possibly be close enough, but they try, pressing and grabbing and nuzzling together. A little taste of the intimacy they left to cool, and they both tumble headfirst back into the yawning maw of insatiable need.  Narsus clutches Daryun’s jaw and hangs on for dear life.

The dew-sodden grass makes for a poor bed, but there is no time for complaining.  Any moment now, the sun will complete its ascent, the banners will unfurl from the towers, and the day will begin, calling Narsus and Daryun to a thousand vital tasks.  Narsus lets himself be rolled gently beneath Daryun, _reveling,_ even, in the sensation of dew seeping into his clothes and mirroring the dry heat of Daryun’s wandering hands. 

To be sure, they keep quite different schedules.  But still, nothing is stopping them from conducting this sort of behavior indoors, out of the cold.  In Narsus’s invitingly warm bed, even—the place where most of their arguments have taken place (or ended up).  But here, now, Narsus’s skin lights up in shivers at the barest skim of Daryun’s fingers beneath his tunic; he burrows his knees into Daryun’s hips; he grins like a starving man at a feast into every push and pull of lips and teeth.

_Like teenagers,_ he thinks.  He thinks about how they _were_ at that age; the painful business of wiling away Daryun’s many walls, the molasses-slow, molasses-sweet first kiss, the short, quick, ugly end of it all as Narsus was frog-marched to the border with a blade at his back.  Call this making up for lost time, call it whatever—Narsus will take it all and devour it whole.

Daryun rips himself back with a wild gasp, and Narsus flops down, panting just as hard.

“God, I feel alive!” Narsus says, unable—more like unwilling—to stymie his teeth-flashing grin.

“You look it,” Daryun murmurs in response.  His voice is rough and oddly distant.  Narsus would be concerned, but before he can say anything he catches a flicker of a smile on Daryun’s face and everything in him quiets to joy.  Daryun runs his calloused fingers across Narsus’s flushed cheek.  “I’ve never seen you pink like this.  Nor your eyes so dark.  And you talk to me of beauty!”  He leans in, and Narsus lifts himself slightly in anticipation of continuing.

So he’s taken by surprise at the chaste brush of lips against his brow.  Shocked into complete stillness, actually; and, absurdly, his eyes begin to sting.  Achingly gentle, impossibly tender.  Narsus’s breath hitches to a stop deep inside his chest.

“Daryun, what…” he manages in a whisper.

“I want to do things right this time.”  Daryun’s gaze slides to the side, tracking the movement of his own fingers slowly combing through Narsus’s tousled hair. 

“And what sounds right to you?” Narsus asks.  He can’t seem to raise his voice above a reverent hush, further muffled by the fog, but carried perfectly to Daryun’s ears.

Thumb skimming feather-light against the shell of Narsus’s ear, Daryun lingers in thought a moment.  Finally, he says, “Peacetime sounds right.  Having hours just to talk.  Work out everything in advance to stop us from making our same mistakes ever again.”

The maudlin words, the sad, sweet smile hovering uncertainly, a stranger on Daryun’s stern face—Narsus slides his arms around Daryun’s neck once again, to ground himself.

“It is a nice thought,” he agrees.

“But it’s just not in us to live that life.  As soon as this war ends, there will be the crusade against slavery in every alley of Ekhubatana.”

“I—“ Narsus begins, manifesto dropping fully formed onto the tip of his tongue.  But Daryun forestalls him with a shake of his head.

“That isn’t what I mean to say.  Narsus, I am _proud_ of your commitment to your ideals.  One mistake I will never make again is to let you think that is a war you wage alone.  I only mean…we might be wrinkled and gray before we have quiet lives.”

“I’m prepared to deal with that.”  Narsus is shocked by the conviction in his own voice.  It isn’t until the words have fully left his mouth that he knows to the core of his being that they are true.

Daryun’s smile, bursting into fullness, steals the breath from Narsus’s lungs even more than the swooping press of lips that follows.

“We’ll work things out.  We will.  We’ve got as many chances as we’re willing to make!”  Narsus cries out on a laugh as Daryun covers his face in kisses.  And it’s _true._ The simplest epiphany in the world. 

No matter what the future holds, never again will they tell themselves they can do nothing to alter its course.

**Author's Note:**

> arslan still gots me, y'all. this takes place after my other narsus/daryun fic, but it can be read on its own. and im going off the 90s anime, btw, i know next to nothing about the reboot
> 
> you can find me at haloud.tumblr.com


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